


So, First Date, Was It?

by lilsherlockian1975



Series: Tumblr stuff and other little things [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Sherlolly - Freeform, Sherlolly Appreciation Week, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:59:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/pseuds/lilsherlockian1975
Summary: Day Two of Sherlolly Appreciation Week: First Date - Sherlock has everything planned for a romantic evening with Molly- for their very first real date- there's just one problem...





	So, First Date, Was It?

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Miz for her betaing brilliance! 
> 
> I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

**-So, First Date, Was It?-**

He was nervous about dinner, he could admit that much (at least to himself). But this wasn't just _any_ dinner, it was his first real date with Molly Hooper. _Date_ , his mind scoffed. _Yes, date. Now shut up!_ He had, of course, done his research about what woman expected from a suitor on a first date, then promptly tossed most of it out the window. Molly wasn't like other woman. Besides, they'd known each other for nearly eight years, for God's sake!

The table was set near the windows, and yes, there was a candle. He'd forgone the flowers, however. Giving a woman flowers was a blatant manipulation and he absolutely finished with manipulating Molly Hooper. It had taken almost two days to make the flat presentable (with a great deal of help from Mrs. Hudson). How it had gotten in such bad shape after the repairs, he had no idea. The meal, linguine with clam sauce, was nearly ready. The wine was chilling and the music was softly playing in the background.

He sighed. _Nervous indeed._ His only comfort was that Molly would definitely be more nervous than him. That thought relaxed him for a moment as he checked on the sauce once again.

Hearing voices, he realised that time had gotten away from him and that his Molly had arrived and was speaking with Mrs. Hudson. He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of a kitchen chair, putting it on as he walked to the sitting room. Counting her soft footfalls on the stairs, he opened the door just at she arrived on the landing.

"That's good timing," she said, smiling, those adorable dimples beckoning him to kiss them.

It wasn't the right time, though, or placement for that matter. _No, no cheek kisses tonight_. He had plans for both of their lips...later. He also had upwards of twenty-two ideas of how this date could end (each one more pleasing than the next).

"Evening, Molly. You look…" His eyes took her in: _work shoes, khaki trousers, striped button up shirt, chunky sweater, her hair in a haphazard bun atop her head._ She looked magnificent. "...lovely."

"Don't be glib, Sherlock. I got stuck doing a last minute autopsy and didn't get a chance to change," she said as she walked past him, tossing her handbag onto the sofa. "Mmm, something smells good."

"Linguine with clam sauce," he explained as he shut the door.

"From Angelo's?" she asked excitedly.

"Ah, no actually…"

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted. "It's my favourite. I'm sure I'll love it no matter where you got it from."

Deciding to wait until she tasted it to take credit (just in case she hated it), he directed her to the table and pulled out a chair. "Please, have a seat."

"You're quite the gentleman this evening."

"I'll just, ah, go get the wine." He walked away with a confused look on his face. She wasn't at all nervous. Which made him feel very conflicted. On the one hand, he was glad that she was so relaxed in his presence, but… _it's our first date, damnit!_ She should at least be a _little_ nervous!

It wasn't any better when he returned. She thanked him for the wine then made a horrible joke about cirrhosis of the liver.

Once they started eating, things got even stranger, or rather not strange at all. It was just like every other meal they'd ever shared.

"So I told him the same thing I told you about three years ago, once I grew a pair and stopped letting you run roughshod over me," she explained before taking another bite.

"You said, 'Sherlock Holmes, you might be a good looking bastard, but you're still a bastard and I'm not your house elf'? I never did figure out what a house elf was, by the way."

"No, you dolt! The other part. I told him to clean up his own mess or I'd leave it sit there until the Second Coming."

"Ah, religious humour. Funny." He smiled. It wasn't funny. But this was a date. One laughed at their date's bad jokes whilst on a date, it was required (one of the small bits of advice he had kept as he filtered through all the nonsense).

Molly shook her head and laughed. "Sort of. Where did you get this, it's excellent," she said, pointing to her plate with her fork.

"I made it, Molly."

"No, really."

"Of course I made it. Is that so unbelievable? I am a graduate chemist. Cooking isn't difficult, just monotonous."

"I believe that you're capable, Sherlock. I seriously doubt that there's anything you couldn't do if you set your mind to it. My problem is that you never do anything yourself if you can get someone else to do it for you."

Where had she learned to compliment him and insult him in the same breath? _You! She learned it by watching you, moron!_ "Well, tonight is... " He froze, looking into her big brown eyes, all thought evaporated and he was left gaping. After several agonising seconds he managed, "You like it though?"

Molly nodded slowly then went back to eating. Thank God!

The meal ended and Sherlock took the dishes to the kitchen, something which seemed to surprise Molly even more than his cooking. He had told her to have a seat on the sofa and that he'd return with dessert.

Her eyes followed him as he walked in holding two bowls of ice cream. When he handed one to her she let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh thank goodness. I was afraid you'd made a tart or something. You're starting to freak me out, Sherlock." She dug into the double chocolate chip with a smile.

Though her behaviour was _not_ what he had expected, he was relieved that she was enjoying herself.

When they finished their ice cream Molly leaned back and rubbed her belly. "Wonderful meal, Sherlock. I'm stuffed."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Sitting up, she reached for her bag. "I did. But I've had a shit day and I need a long bath." She stood and started walking towards the door.

 _What?_ Sherlock followed. "Ah, well, thank you for... coming to dinner," he said, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. _Maybe I waited too long,_ he thought. _Maybe there's no actual spark left after all these years. Or maybe I'm just rubbish at dating when it's an actual date, not pretending._

She stopped at the door and turned around. "What's wrong?" she asked, putting a comforting hand on his forearm.

 _Oh, there's the spark._ "Nothing, Molly. I just had high expectations for this evening."

Her lips quirked up. "High expectations? For what, dinner? We eat dinner all the time, Sherlock." She suddenly look apologetic. "Did you want to do an experiment?"

And that's when the penny dropped.

 _Well, this is unfortunate._ Shoving his hands into his pockets, he said, "Molly, this wasn't _just_ dinner. Think back to when I asked you to come over."

She got a far off look in her eyes for a moment, then started looking around the room. He watched her look at the table, with the still lit candle. She looked toward the kitchen, then at his laptop, still quietly playing instrumental music.

" _Oh my God!_ " she whispered.

"Finally got it, did you?"

"This was a date! This was _our first date!"_

Sherlock just nodded.

Dropping her bag, she reached for him, grabbing his shoulders. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't…"

"Yes, I see that now."

"You cooked for me! The ice cream and music and the candle. Oh, Sherlock, the candle was a dead giveaway!" She moved closer. "I feel like an idiot."

Reaching up, he cupped her face, tracing her dimples with his thumbs. "You're not an idiot, Molly."

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. What can I do to make this up to you?"

He smirked. "Well, my expectations did include a kiss."

"Oh, of course," she said with a sexy little smile. "All this trouble… it's the _least_ you deserve." Pulling him closer, she stretched up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. "Does that meet your expectations?"

Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her close. "It does. But it doesn't make up for not realising that we were on an actual date."

"Hmm," Molly hummed, looking thoughtful as she threaded her fingers through his hair. "I assume you have some ideas about how we could salvage this evening?"

"Twenty-two to be exact," he said before kissing her senseless.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make me smile! Thanks for reading! ~Lil~


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